Hi everyone,
I don’t usually open up like this, but I feel like it’s time. It started with an old shoebox, dust-covered and forgotten, nestled in the corner of my attic. I was tidying up, more for a distraction than out of necessity, when I stumbled upon it. That little, unassuming box held a truth I’d hidden from myself for decades.
Inside, I found a collection of letters written in my mother’s elegant handwriting. I didn’t even remember keeping them, but there they were, folded neatly as if time had not yet passed them by. My mother passed away when I was just twelve years old, and I had always considered my memories of her clear and cherished. But as I sifted through her words, I realized there was much I didn’t know.
The letters chronicled various snippets of her days, many addressed to ‘My Little Star,’ a nickname I hadn’t heard in years. They spoke of mundane moments, like her challenges with the garden or the joy of reading a new book. But one letter was different. It was dated just a few days before she died and was addressed specifically to me.
“My dear Jamie,” it read, “I have loved you with every breath, every beat of my heart. There’s something I need to tell you, something I hoped to find the right moment for. But with time running short, I must write it down. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. I need you to remember that always.”
Her words were like a balm I didn’t know I needed. I was always a timid child, always plagued by self-doubt. Her letter continued, “I’ve kept a secret from you, only because I wanted you to find your way without shadows. You have an extraordinary gift, Jamie. I saw it when you were just a baby. You could make anyone smile even on the cloudiest days. Use it, my love. Let the world see your light.”
I hadn’t understood at first. Then I remembered another page, tucked in the back of the box. It was a drawing, a simple sketch of a sun with a smiling face. I realized then that this was her way of telling me that my gift was simply being myself, spreading warmth and joy in simple, everyday ways.
Reflecting on my life since her passing, I saw a pattern. The laughter, the friendships, the way I always managed to bring people together—these weren’t accidents. They were manifestations of the gift she saw in me, a gift I’d never recognized.
But my life had been clouded by fear. Fear of failure, of never measuring up. That fear had kept me from pursuing my passion for teaching, a dream I’d harbored but never dared to chase. But my mother’s words, the gentle encouragement, felt like permission. Suddenly, I was free. Free to be the person my mother believed in.
I spent the following weeks mulling over the decision, unsure yet oddly hopeful. And then, like a whisper from the past, I enrolled in a teaching program. It was terrifying, but I felt her with me, urging me forward.
Now, after so many years, I’m sharing this because I hope you will understand the power of finding your truth, of embracing the gifts you didn’t know you had. We all carry pieces of the ones we’ve lost, hidden like treasures yet to be found. When you find them, hold them close.
Thank you for listening to my story. Perhaps it will inspire you to seek out those old letters or memories. You might just find a piece of yourself you’ve been missing.
With love,
Jamie